


Orbital Inclination

by nayanroo



Series: Kingsverse [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate POVs, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King and Queen of Asgard have the spotlight, but there are hundreds of others who work in the background to make sure things run smoothly.  Anything that affects royalty affects them as well.  This is a story about everyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orbital Inclination

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next fic - a little oneshot setting things up for the next big fic. I'm trying something new here... let me know if you guys like it!
> 
>  _orbital inclination;_ one of the six orbital parameters describing the shape and orientation of a celestial orbit. It is the angular distance of the orbital plane from the plane of reference (usually the primary's equator or the ecliptic), normally stated in degrees.

Day began early in Asgard’s palace. In truth it never really slept; feasts would go late into the night, the magical lights of the halls blazing into the early morning hours as revelers and courtiers continued their toasts and merriment. Politics certainly were never at rest in the corridors of gold and stone, and plots were unwoven as fast as they could be made. Warriors awoke early to train in the predawn light, or to mount up and be deployed to wherever the Nine Realms needed them to be.

But it was a rare day where any who had gone to bed at a reasonable hour awoke before the royal servants. They worked in shifts just to be sure that there was someone on hand at all hours in case of need, but those who were present to wake and attend the King and Queen as they prepared for their day were the most trusted, and the most dedicated. Those who directly served the king and his warrior Queen were hand-picked by Betha herself, and were the kind of attendants all who worked in the palace aspired to be.

Rida straightened her gown in the last few moments before the time candle guttered out in its sconce. As it faded, the light from the hearth in the receiving chamber grew and the enchanted lights brightened. Others moved around the room cleaning the night’s dishes away, polishing floors and walls and generally setting the room to rights, while those who served the King and Queen directly gathered by the door to the bedchamber, waiting a few moments more. Rida, though, held herself carefully aloof. Betha had chosen her to attend the Queen, and along with the prestige of the position came the knowledge that Rida was a favorite of the Head of Household, one who might aspire to hold the keyring herself one day. After all, those who served the King and Queen had to be efficient, discreet, and above all, trustworthy, and receiving this position was certainly a reflection on all those things.

“Is all ready?” she asked. At a series of nods and agreements, she knocked twice on the door to the bedroom. After waiting a moment so that the King and Queen could compose themselves or call out not to be disturbed if they so wished, she pushed the doors open and went inside.

As sometimes happened, the King and Queen were talking quietly, still buried away in the furs of their bed, and didn’t look up at her when she entered. Rida busied herself with preparing the Queen’s toilet; she drew a bath into the huge stone tub and set out the soaps she knew the Queen liked, laid a towel on the flat black stone by the small hearth so it would be warm, and went into the dressing room to lay out clothes. The Queen would usually ask for her training leathers to start the day off, but Rida pulled out a court dress as well. She had consulted with the Secretary and knew their schedule, and so thought it wise to be prepared.

When she reemerged, the King had risen and dressed already and was leaning over the Queen. The Lady Sif seemed paler than usual, but Rida saw her smile up at her husband and quickly turned away. She could not unhear what they were saying, but she could give them as much privacy as possible as she fastidiously arranged items on the vanity.

“Go to Eir,” the King was saying, and Rida knew that if she were not a personal attendant of the Lady Sif she would not be hearing the note of true concern in King Loki’s voice. “It is not normal for you to be this way, not for so long. I fear…”

“I know you do.” Lady Sif touched his cheek with her fingertips. “The battle I was in yesterday…”

“You should have called to Heimdall for aid.”

“I had it completely under control.”

“Of course you did.” The King’s voice was wry, but Rida looked at his expression in the mirror, and the line on his forehead said otherwise.

“Perhaps the crown is finally making me soft.”

“I doubt that _very_ much. But Sif…”

The Queen sighed, but it seemed a fond sigh. “If I go to see her today, will that put your mind at ease?” At some wordless reply, she continued, “Very well, if it will make you cease your nagging—“

“I am _not_ nagging.”

“You are nagging, you spell-shocked idiot, but your concern is a breath of fresh air in the face of your usual malcontent. It’s always nice to have variety.”

“Tell no one.” There was a moment of silence, and Rida saw in the mirror that the Queen’s hand slid through the King’s dark hair as they kissed, cupping the nape of his neck to urge him toward her.

“Have faith,” the Queen murmured. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

Rida spread her skirts as the King passed out of the bedchamber, then went to the Queen’s bedside. “Is there anything I can get you, my lady?”

“Water, please,” the Queen said quietly as she sat up in bed, running a hand through her hair. “And have a messenger tell the Master at Arms that I will not be in attendance today.”

“As my Queen commands.” Rida hastened to obey. And despite all her resolve to be a good attendant, to keep herself from thoughts of rumor and gossip ( _did you hear of the Queen’s ride this morning, Rida?_ and _do you suppose it will be soon_ ), she could not help but wonder if the Queen’s wishes had finally come to pass.

*

“I’m _what?_ Are you certain?”

Asfrid was only an apprentice healer, but Lady Eir liked to have the junior staff attend her so that they got the experience of seeing to the healing of nobles and, occasionally, royalty. And right now she was using all of the instruction she had received in schooling her expression into the kind of serenity that Lady Eir had during her appointments. The Queen felt no such compunction to keep her emotions off her face; she sat on the edge of the glowing slab, staring wide-eyed at the Mistress of the Healing Halls, looking completely dumbfounded.

“With child, my lady.” Lady Eir seemed amused by the Lady Sif’s reaction more than anything, folding her hands in front of her. “Congratulations.”

"How?”

“In the usual way, I would assume.”

Asfrid stifled a giggle. Only Lady Eir and the Lady Frigga would speak to the Lady Sif in such a way, and Frigga was good-mother to the Queen. If she so much as twitched a smile out she could lose her post.

“Is it…” the Queen seemed to search for words here. “…healthy? The child?”

“It is too early to tell if there is anything amiss. You are barely into your second month, my lady. To be honest, I was wondering when you might come to see me…”

“You _knew_?”

“It was quite obvious to those of us who know the signs. I did not need to examine you to know, for I can see it in your face and the way your body has changed already.” Lady Eir smiled now. “I have been doing this a long time, my lady.”

“I suppose this explains why I have spent more time in the bathing room than the training yards lately.” The Queen looked down at her stomach as though she’d never seen it before, placing a hand lightly upon it. “Though I cannot blame that undignified fall I took in the last battle upon this, I suppose.”

“Alas.” Lady Eir made a small gesture with her hand and Asfrid hustled forward. “Please go fetch some of the stomach-soothing packets of herbs for the Queen. Third dry storeroom, shelf four, and bring several of them. You will be plagued by the sickness for some time more, my Queen.”

Asfrid curtsied. “Yes, Lady Eir.” With her healer’s skirts rustling, she managed to walk out of the room, but broke into a half-run as she reached the main halls. Other healers watched curiously as she passed them – she’d been attending Lady Eir and the Queen, they knew, and what could cause her to rush so? – but she did not stop to talk for fear she would speak what she had learned.

When she returned with the paper-wrapped packets of herbs in a small leather pouch, the mood in the room had changed. Lady Eir and the Lady Sif seemed to be more somber now, and the Queen was stroking her stomach protectively. Asfrid cleared her throat to try and give them a moment to compose themselves.

“I have the remedy, my lady, my Queen,” she said. Lady Eir patted the Queen’s hand and rose, taking the leather pouch from Asfrid and thanking her quietly.

“Lady Sif, I will want to see you once every month at the least, but if you feel there is aught amiss, come see me straight away. I am sure that Lady Frigga will be more than amenable to being part of this. And the king…”

“…will simply have to deal with it.” The Queen slid off the table. She was smiling again, a radiant smile. “I may need to bring him here after I tell him, however.”

“If he faints, I have smelling salts to give you.” Lady Eir smiled as well. “He will be happy, though.”

“He had better be.” The Queen bowed her head slightly, and Asfrid bent her head as well. Queen Sif was such a force, as powerful as the Bifrost she thought, and it seemed wrong to be standing straight when the Queen was not. “Thank you, Lady Eir.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The Lady Sif left, and Lady Eir watched the hangings swing in the door for a moment before sighing. “Asgard is not at all prepared for what is about to happen,” she said.

“My lady?”

“The King and Queen with a child?” Lady Eir rose. “If they do not drive each other mad during the Queen’s pregnancy, they will drive everyone _else_ mad instead.”

*

Egil took off his helm with a sigh of relief. It had been a great honor to be appointed to the Royal Guard, tasked with keeping the King and Queen safe – a more difficult assignment than most knew, for the King had a penchant for using his magic to wander off, and the Queen could become as sharp as her blades if she felt smothered. But she had been the one to personally appoint him after he’d leaped from his horse during battle and defended her when she’d fallen, and so Egil felt great loyalty for his Queen.

Still, he wished that the more ornate armor Royal Guardsmen wore wasn’t heavier than that of a normal Einherjar. He was hardly any slouch, but he could feel the sweat pooling on his skin… though the news he bore made it a little easier to bear.

“Quitting already, Egg?” one of the other off-duty guards called. Egil put his gear on the table and a servant put a plate of food in front of him as he sat. “Not much of a guard if you give up on your first day!”

“Don’t even joke,” he replied, but he was grinning. “I’m not as old as you are, Garrock – I’ve got strength aplenty to keep up with our King and Queen. Though,” and he leaned forward, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial stage-whisper. “I don’t think they will be moving so fast for a while.”

“Oh?” Norin was another guard, one who had come on at the beginning of King Loki’s rule. He set his own helm down beside his plate and sat, pushing red hair out of his eyes. Egil pursed his lips and pretended to poke desultorily at the greens on his plate.

“I’m not gossiping, Norin,” he said slowly. “No, I’ve real news, but you mustn’t spread it around.”

“Secrets are what we do best.”

“Very well.” Egil leaned back and let them all set a moment before he grinned. “The Queen is with child.”

This was met with a chorus of voices, both clamoring for more attention and calling him the greatest liar since the King himself. Egil put up his hands.

“I heard it with my own ears!” he half-shouted, then dropped his voice again when they’d all quieted. “I was on duty with the King, you know how he had that meeting with the Jotuns today, they’re _still_ fighting over their throne years later, and the Queen comes bursting in. You know how she is, very direct, she tells the Jotuns to leave. ‘Urgent business to discuss with my husband the King,’ she says. And since she’s the Queen, they listen. Also she looked rather intimidating, but if Jotuns don’t find our Queen Sif intimidating when she has business she’s about, it’s on their own heads, isn’t it?”

A few agreements, but most were listening. Norin seemed skeptical still, but he was at least listening. Egil pushed some of his food around his plate.

“So did they clear out? The Jotuns?”

“Of course they did. Queen Sif’s reputation is known throughout the Nine Realms, no?” Some of the older guards, the ones who had known the Queen before she’d been crowned, nodded in agreement. “So the Jotuns leave, and Ulfric and I were still at our posts, and when they got to talking I think they forgot we were there.

‘The King, being… you know, who he is, he’s just a _trifle_ upset, doesn’t like being interrupted. So he says, what’s the matter, is the city ablaze, is someone attacking, and the Queen says no. And the king asks is my brother visiting or my mother coming or the Allfather returning, and the Queen looks a little pale now but proud like she is, and she tells the King to _shut up_ because she’s got something important to tell him, and she’s _really_ not amused when he says to just _say_ it so he can placate the Jotuns and get back to business. And that’s when she told him.”

Everyone leaned forward. “Told him about the child?” someone asked.

“That’s right. ‘Loki,’ she says, ‘I am with child.’ Just like that, but angrier.”

“What’d the King say?”

“What’d he do?”

“Well,” Egil said, smirking a little bit – he couldn’t help it, being the one to relay such momentous news to the rest of his compatriots – “He kind of stared at her as though he’d never seen her before. I think it might be the longest the King has been quiet in a long time—meaning no disrespect to His Majesty, of course, but it is the truth. Anyway, the Queen is staring right back, and she looks… I don’t know…” He trailed off, thinking about the expression the Queen had worn then. It hadn’t belonged on her face, he’d thought, for Queen Sif was so determined, such a powerful, constant figure, that to see her look like she had… “Uncertain, I guess.”

“Has Queen Sif _ever_ been uncertain?” But even Norin was looking like he knew what Egil was talking about, and the table was quiet.

“She was then,” Egil said. “It is hard to think of our Queen being anything but certain, but children… they are something else entirely.”

“’tis true.” Stieg’s wife, a handmaiden to the Lady Frigga, had just had their first son. “Though I do not know how the King was surprised. Her Majesty was starting to get that look that pregnant women have, you know, that glowy look…”

“Not to mention the way they have with each other, if you get my meaning—“

“Enough, everyone.” Norin waved a hand at Egil. “Let the man finish.”

He didn’t let his surprise show, but pushed on. “Well, His Majesty sat down really suddenly, still staring at the Queen. And he asks if she’s certain, and she says that yes, she is, and it all went downhill from there, because Queen Sif thought that the King was unhappy with the news, and they started arguing, and then in the blink of an eye he’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Vanished, like he does.”

“And _why_ are you still here?”

“Because we scoured Asgard – we alerted all guard stations and none of the Einherjar have been able to locate the King, and he is not in any of his usual or less usual places in the palace, and Heimdall cannot locate him – and we _did_ ask, so you know – so he’s… nowhere. As far as we know.”

“You _lost_ the King?”

One of the older Royal Guards, an officer and Egil’s superior, leaned over. “Where is Ulfric now?”

“With the Queen, sir. She was very distraught when the King vanished.”

“Well, nobody can blame Her Majesty for that.”

Stieg snorted. “No, nobody can. Madra would _kill_ me if I did that.”

“The King and Queen have a tempestuous relationship anyway, I think we can all agree. Have you _heard_ them arguing? They do not need blades to draw blood.”

“Either way,” Egil said, turning to his food at last. “The Queen is with child, and the King… well, he could have taken it a little better, no?” He locked eyes with Norin for a moment, but for once, there wasn’t hostility in the other man’s expression. Egil looked back down at his plate. “Wonder where he’s gotten off to.”

*

Agent Helena Dell had done two tours in Iraq before joining up with SHIELD. It allowed her to stay in the country with her wife, sans any unpleasant fallout from the dismantling of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. And SHIELD had needed her expertise for certain high-profile security jobs, they’d said. What she’d learned doing security ops in the desert would be just as useful in an urban jungle.

They hadn’t told her about the aliens.

In the nearly four years of heading up security detail for the King and Queen of Asgard, or any of their various emissaries, visitors, and assorted hangers-on, the one thing that Agent Dell could say of her job with any certainty whatsoever was that it was never, ever boring. With a chaotic deity for a King and a strong-willed warrior for a Queen, Asgard had introduced her to a variety of headaches that she hadn’t thought possible. And one was starting behind her eyes right now as she reached for her buzzing phone on the nightstand.

“Agent Dell here,” she groaned. “What’s… he is? Yes, I’ll mobilize my team right now. Thank you, Director.”

“It’s not even _five in the morning_ ,” Dinah grumbled beside her as Helena smooshed her face into the pillows for a minute before rolling out of bed. “What’s going on?”

“The King of Asgard decided that paying a nighttime surprise visit was a good idea.”

Dinah rolled over, watching her wife dress with bleary eyes. “Don’t you usually get some kind of warning before one of them appears? Didn’t the people in SHIELD R&D develop some kind of…”

“Dr. Foster did, but he didn’t come via the Bifrost, so we couldn’t detect anything. Their next scheduled visit isn’t for another month.” Helena pulled on her uniform and zipped up the front of the jacket, stepping into her boots. “Something’s wrong.”

“What could make a god panic?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be anything good.” Helena leaned over and kissed her wife quickly, smoothing her hand over Dinah’s tan skin. “I’ll call when I get a chance, okay?”

“Okay. Do good work, be safe, all that.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As she drove to HQ to pick up the rest of her team, Helena watched the top of Stark Tower with narrowed eyes. She didn’t like going there – Tony Stark was pompous and moreover didn’t like SHIELD in his penthouse, and tended to make things difficult for them – and it was _Loki,_ and he was always hard to deal with because of the vanishing trick he had.

_It’s going to be a long day._

*

JARVIS turned the lights up twenty-five percent from dark and chimed softly.

“Sir,” JARVIS said, watching through the camera feeds as the two lumps under the blankets on the bed stirred. The audio feed picked up groans. “I apologize for waking you and Ms. Potts, but His Majesty has just appeared in Stark Tower and is causing something of a disturbance.”

Another groan. “Tell Thor to handle it. Loki’s _his_ shitty little brother.”

“Thor is already awake and attempting to understand the situation, sir, but I’m afraid your presence is necessary too. Or at least requested.”

“You’d better go, Tony,” JARVIS heard Ms. Potts mumble. She leaned over and kissed Mr. Stark’s shoulder. “It can’t mean anything good if Loki’s here at this hour and waking people up. I don’t want anything destroyed, we just finished redecorating.”

“I’ll go protect your precious art,” Mr. Stark said, but he rolled out of bed and pulled on a shirt. “Go back to sleep, Pep.”

JARVIS considerately dimmed the lights in the bedroom again and followed Tony’s progress through the building, switching from camera to camera. Meanwhile, JARVIS also kept a virtual eye on the Odinson brothers, watching the room where His Majesty paced back and forth like a caged animal and Thor, clad only in a pair of loose pants with his long hair mussed from sleep.

“I am not saying it is wrong to be so… startled, Brother,” Thor was saying. “But I do not think this was the wisest course of action. I _know_ , you have never said you were wise, yet… Sif tells you she is with child, and you _run away?_ ”

“I am not _running away_ ,” the King muttered. “I am… taking some time to gather my thoughts.”

“On another Realm?”

“I cannot very well do it with her there, now can I?”

“You should. Did you two not decide that this was what you wanted? And now it has come, and the first thing you do is _leave_ , do you imagine Sif is taking that very well, then—“

“I do _not_ need a lecture from you on how to be a husband, Thor!”

“It seems that you do!”

“Boys! Shut up!”

JARVIS switched camera views to see Mr. Stark standing at the top of the stairs, running a hand through his hair so it stood up even more than usual. He crossed his arms under the glowing circle of his arc reactor and eyed the King and Thor.

“This does not concern you, Stark,” King Loki said haughtily, though JARVIS’ voice analysis programs detected an undercurrent of insecurity and a lack of conviction that took away from the overall effect. “Go away.”

“Nuh-uh. When my AI wakes me up, telling me there’s a disturbed alien king in my entertainment room, I’m gonna come up and see what’s going on. So, spill. Why so glum, chum?”

“I am not…” The King seemed taken aback for a moment, so Thor stepped forward.

“Sif is with child,” he said, “And Loki has done a _very bad thing._ ”

“It is not exactly outside my scope of interest to do very bad things, Thor.”

“Dude, you left your pregnant wife back home. What’s wrong with you?”

“Everyone seems to have their own idea—and I do not need advice from _you_ either, _Stark._ ”

“Uh, out of the two of us, whose stress response involves running away to other _planets?_ ”

King Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, and JARVIS registered a spike in the King’s vitals – blood pressure, heart rate, and respiration had already been high when he’d come in but they shot up now, and JARVIS thought it was worth alerting the others to.

“That machine is monitoring me?” The King seemed annoyed by this, which was strange, because JARVIS had been instructed to do so every time he came to visit, and JARVIS had thought that His Majesty had been aware.

“Wait—Brother, where are you going?”

JARVIS registered no response from His Majesty, and indeed upon scanning video feeds from the floor discovered that His Majesty was no longer anywhere in the room, or—expanding feed scanning—anywhere in the tower at all.

“JARVIS, where—“

“I am not sure yet,” JARVIS replied quickly, running a facial recognition program through video feed of every security and traffic camera in the city. “I will attempt to locate His Majesty.”

“His Majestic Drama Queen,” Mr. Stark muttered. “Let us know if Bifrost readings appear too, JARVIS. I don’t think Sif will be crying into her pillows over her jerk husband for very long.”

“I thought they _wanted_ a child,” Thor was saying to himself. “I do not understand _why_ Loki would act this way.”

Dr. Foster came up the stairs now, wrapped in her fluffy robe. “What about Loki?”

“He is… being dramatic.”

“Oh,” Dr. Foster said. She didn’t seem surprised.

JARVIS turned back to the facial recognition program when it pinged the server with a hit. “Sirs, Doctor, I have located His Majesty in an all-night coffee shop on Greenwich Avenue. The Roasting Plant, between Seventh Avenue and Eleventh Street.”

“Great. Okay. Plan.” Mr. Stark clapped his hands together. “We’re going to go collect him and—“

“Detecting Bifrost activity in the upper atmosphere.” JARVIS hesitated; the readings were coming fast and hard, highly unusual. Usually they built for a time beforehand, but everything seemed accelerated now. “Bifrost activation in the vicinity of His Majesty’s location.”

“That would be Sif,” Thor said. “I should go, at least—“

“Sirs, I must inform you that SHIELD Security Agents are arriving in the garage.”

“Great, the goon squad.” Mr. Stark pointed at Thor. “You go play referee, I’ll deal with SHIELD.”

Mr. Stark left in one of the elevators. Thor took a moment to kiss Dr. Foster goodbye before leaving via the balcony doors. JARVIS was left to manage the subroutines that kept Stark Tower running smoothly.

*

Gloria Mendes had seen a lot of _weird shit_ working at a coffee shop that was open all night. Transients, mostly, and they were interesting to talk to. A lot of them had had some pretty bad experiences, and she always ended up giving them a little extra coffee or one of the old batch of pastries after she’d changed them out for fresh ones. It seemed the right thing to do.

But even the ones who came in obviously under the influence (or the drunk rich kids who came in and disrupted the three-in-the-morning quiet) didn’t come _near_ the fact that she’d gone to take a peppermint mocha out to the man on the patio (who obviously thought he was disguising the fact he was that alien royalty who popped in and out of Central Park) and nearly walked into a pillar of light and heat really took the cake. The pillar of light had resolved into the alien Queen (Sif, if Gloria remembered, which she did because Sif always had impeccable fashion taste and impossibly healthy-looking hair and Gloria had several pictures of her posted up around her vanity) and two guards, both of whom looked utterly terrified of her.

“So,” Sif had said, and if Gloria hadn’t been holding the mocha in one hand, she figured she’d have frozen over from the ice in the Queen’s voice. “Here you are.”

“Hello, Sif,” Loki had said, falsely bright. “It took you long enough to find me.”

“You were hiding from Heimdall’s sight until minutes ago.”

“Probably because I did not want him to see me.”

“ _Why?_ ” Sif leaned over, her eyes narrowed to slits that seemed to glitter in the low light on the patio. “Are you ashamed of my condition?”

Loki had looked pained, which made Gloria squirm a little, and the shuffling of her feet made her hit one of the metal chairs with the heel of her boot. The noise made both of the aliens look up at her.

“Uh. Your peppermint. Mocha. Here.” Gloria scuttled over and placed the mug on the table and moved back quickly. “Can I uh, get you anything, Queen Sif?”

The chill of her voice made Gloria take a few more steps back. “No, you may not,” the Queen said. She gestured at the guards and they took up posts on either end of the patio, their gloved hands on their swords. “I have business with my husband.”

“I’ll just be inside if you want anything,” she managed to get out with some semblance of bright cheerfulness. “Just come tell me. It’s on the house.”

With that she made a beeline for the doors and closed them behind her, made it to the counter, and immediately knelt down behind it and made a high-pitched whimpering noise into her hands.

One of the customers in the shop, a cop on his break, looked over at her. “You okay, miss?”

“I’m fine,” Gloria breathed. “I’m fine, I’m fine, there are just aliens arguing on the patio, that’s all.”

The cop peered over to where Sif was standing beside the table now, gesturing angrily and talking. “Shouldn’t they have SHIELD crawling all over this place?”

“I think this is a little personal for that.” Gloria went and poured herself a cup of coffee. It was about to be a long night.

*

Ulfric eyed Egil across the patio. The new guardsman was holding up well, or at least looked like he was. Ulfric didn’t like Midgard’s air – it seemed oppressively warm, almost like the air itself was sweating along with him. He knew it wasn’t everywhere, mostly just in the cities they visited – the places that were more open had better, fresher air – but Ulfric’s heart belonged to Asgard first. He couldn’t help it.

“And _why_ ,” the Queen was saying, “Did you think this was a _good idea_ , husband?”

“I know it was not,” the King said, and Ulfric held in a sigh. He knew that tone of voice from years of guarding the King and Queen now; it was what the King used when he wanted to get something unpleasant over without having to expend much effort to do so. “Sif, please—“

“No.” The sound of a fist on metal, and Ulfric glanced over out of the corner of his eye to see Sif glaring at the dent her fist had made in the metal table. “Oh, to Hel with this—Loki, we _talked_ about it, I thought you _wanted_ this—“

“I do!”

“Then Stars and Branches, Loki, _why?_ Why do you run? Does the thought disgust you so? Should I remove myself to Vanaheim for the duration so you are not afflicted by the sight of me as I grow round with _your child?_ ”

“No. Sif—“

“So it is the thought of the child itself that disgusts you, and you _lied_ to me _again_.”

“Gods above, Sif, you are _hysterical_ \--“

“I am _pregnant_ and when I told you, expecting you to rejoice with me after _years_ of wanting, you _ran to Midgard_ rather than tell me your true feelings. I think I have earned the _right_ to be hysterical, if such a decision was left in your hands and not my own.”

The King looked away, his back tense and angry under the strange Midgard clothing he wore. “It was a sudden thing,” he said at last. “I panicked.”

“So instead of saying as much, you vanished and left me to think the worst? Is that what you considered the best course of action?”

 _Oh, His Majesty had better tread carefully,_ Ulfric thought. He’d heard that tone of voice from the Queen often enough on the training sands, and it never meant anything good.

Luckily, it seemed His Majesty was wise enough to know that as well. “No,” he said. “Even I make mistakes sometimes, Sif.”

“That has been demonstrated.” Her Majesty said nothing for a long few moments. Ulfric watched the vehicles going by, so alike and yet so different from anything Asgard offered. “Why,” the Queen said at last, “Did you panic?”

“It was not because I want no child with you,” the King said quickly. Ulfric resisted the urge to shift a little bit; it was always strange to hear the King being honest with anyone, for so often he spoke out both sides of his mouth, but there were always those who merited his truth, and the Queen was one of them. “You know that I do. But it is… real, now.”

“Yes, it is.” Queen Sif’s voice was still frosty, but seemed slightly less angry now. “And you had best get used to it.”

“I… yes, I suppose I must.”

“You do not sound enthusiastic.”

“Only because I…” there was a long pause, the quiet sound of porcelain on porcelain as the King moved his drink around on its saucer. “I am afraid, Sif.”

The soft hiss of the Queen letting out a breath, though her voice was still hard. “And so you feel justified.”

“I—“ a sigh. “Yes, I did. Do you not feel fear, Sif? Do you not worry that you will not be good enough?”

“You know that I do. But I do not run from my fears, Loki.” And, so quietly, said in a way that made Ulfric feel guilty for hearing it: “You are not alone. You have not been alone since the day our blood mingled on Vár’s scroll. Do not pretend that you have to face your fears on your own too.”

A long silence, the quiet scrape of metal on metal. When he looked out of the corner of his eye, Ulfric saw that Queen Sif had reached out and laid her fingertips on the back of King Loki’s hand.

“I expect an apology out of you still.”

“I know you expect it.” The King was petulant now, which – and Ulfric reflected on the strangeness of this – was a good sign.

“Good. As long as you know.”

Ulfric straightened suddenly as several black vehicles pulled up in front of the coffee shop. He met Egil’s eyes and tilted his head, and the two of them moved in close to the King and Queen.

“Oh, wonderful,” the King said. “SHIELD has decided to come out.”

“Your Majesties!” A woman was getting out of the lead car, her long hair in a ponytail and the SHIELD logo prominent on her back under the words SECURITY OPS LEAD. “I’m Agent Dell, I’m with—“

“SHIELD, we can tell.” The King waved a hand and all the stylized eagle patches on uniforms and vehicles glowed green. “You make it so simple to identify yourselves.”

Agent Dell seemed completely nonplussed. “I’m here to coordinate with your security for the duration of your stay. I apologize for the strange venue, but we didn’t know you were coming.”

“That would be because it was unplanned.”

The Queen shot her husband a look and stepped forward. “Thank you for your diligence, Agent Dell, but we will not be staying long enough to merit your services.”

“Then at least let us escort you back to Central Park,” Agent Dell said after a beat, and Ulfric had to hide a smile. She had the same tone and demeanor of anyone tasked with guarding the King and Queen. It was a special kind of patience that he knew well.

The Queen looked at her King and raised an eyebrow, and in the way they had, some agreement passed between them, some unspoken conversation. “Very well,” the Queen said at last, when the King tilted his chin slightly. “That is acceptable. Egil, please come with the King and I. Ulfric, you will follow behind.”

“My Queen,” Ulfric said, putting his fist over his heart, and followed Agent Dell to the second of the two black vehicles that had opened their doors. He didn’t like being separated from the King and Queen, but by the way the King placed his hand on the Queen’s back, he thought that perhaps at least she would be quite safe. Nobody doubted the ability of the King and Queen to defend themselves – nobody who knew them at all.

On the drive through the dark city, Agent Dell spoke softly into a small glowing rectangle, confirming their route and destination before she set it down and looked at Ulfric where he sat in the strangely comfortable seat.

“You don’t work for easy people,” she said. She sounded amused.

“The King and Queen have their own way of things,” Ulfric said. He was a little unsure of how to proceed, for no Royal Guardsman thought their job _simple_ , not as it had been with Odin Allfather and his lady wife. But it would not be well of him to speak ill of King Loki and Queen Sif.

Agent Dell snorted. “I don’t think either of us got into this because we wanted to skate by,” she said. “As annoying as the middle-of-the-night calls are, I’d rather do this than be working for some private security firm… you might call them _mercenaries_ , actually. They’re about the same thing.”

“Mercenaries might be paid more.”

“I don’t do it for the money either.” Agent Dell raised her eyebrows. “And I’d lay what money I _do_ have that you’re the same.”

“It is an honor to be a Royal Guardsman. We have proven ourselves worthy of the trust of our monarchs… and _that_ is certainly no mean feat.”

“I believe it.” Agent Dell slowed, turning smoothly onto the wide boulevard that would lead them to the park. “Still, you get points for being patient.”

Ulfric paused a moment before he smiled. “Thank you.”

They pulled up behind the first vehicle and got out. King Loki was already putting his hand out to help the Queen out, though she scowled as she took it.

“I am not _that_ fragile, Loki,” she was muttering as Ulfric took his post beside them.

“Humor me.” The King looked at her, and there was a strange expression on his face. “Should you be moving around via the Bifrost? Is it safe?” He subsided at the Queen’s expression, but, Ulfric thought, only because he did not want to argue at that moment.

“Take us home, Heimdall,” the Queen said once they’d reached the metal disc. Ulfric felt the familiar magical hook grab him behind his navel and pull, and then in a flash of light and heat they were home.

Instead of horses waiting for them at the entrance to the Observatory, one of the palace’s gun-ships hovered just above the multicolored crystal. “I thought it wise,” Heimdall said simply when Sif gave him a look. “And, my king, it is perfectly safe for the Queen to travel the Bifrost. In fact, I knew before she did.”

“Did _everyone_ know before I did?” the Queen sighed.

The King looked sullen. “I did not.”

“When I transport anyone,” Heimdall explained quietly, “I can feel Yggdrasil’s spark of life within them. I felt a second within you, half-sister, the moment it kindled. And now – my king, you may wish to return to your negotiations. The delegation from Jotunheim grows… restive.”

“Ah… yes. I had best.” The King did not _hurry_ \- he rarely did anything to appear without composure – but moved quickly enough after the Queen, and as Ulfric passed the gatekeeper on the way out of the Observatory, he could have sworn that Heimdall had winked one of his golden, all-seeing eyes.

*

Lifa, daughter of Gurt, smoothed her court gown, then tugged at it so that the waist sat right. At a look from her mother, Lady Sigrun, she desisted. Her mother was a fearsome woman, and though Lifa knew that she was loved and that all the pressure was important, she sometimes wished that her mother would listen to her suggestions for her gowns. Why, if the newer, more Midgardian style was what the _Queen herself_ was wearing, was it not good enough for Lifa too?

But Lady Sigrun had ideas about how a lady rose in the favor of the court, and Lifa knew that much depended upon her making a good match. Her House was in the peerage, through a cousin of the King’s mother, and so any marriage Lifa made would need the king’s approval. But that wasn’t what was foremost in Lifa’s mind. She had admired Queen Sif for a long time, and being at court gave Lifa the chance to learn some of her ways. Not in the sword, for Lifa had no skill at that (though she was a fair archer, and could be deadly with a dagger as all ladies were expected to be in case of trouble) but the Queen seemed to navigate the treachery of court as easily as foes on a battlefield, and Lifa would learn all she could of the same.

“Now pay attention, Daughter,” her mother whispered as the Royal Guard lined up and took their places along the center of the feasting hall. “There is a rumor that Their Majesties have an important announcement to make. If it affects us…”

“I will be mindful, Mother,” Lifa promised, and straightened her shoulders. Her mother hesitated, then smoothed an errant hair back from her daughter’s face.

“You look lovely, Daughter mine,” she murmured. “I know I am hard on you, but being the lady of a House is not an easy task. I want to know that you will be both well cared for and prepared for when you take on the role.”

Lifa smiled at her mother, but then the King and Queen were being announced, and both of them leaned a little to watch. Something had certainly changed, she thought; the Queen carried herself slightly differently, or perhaps the King had a new look in his eye whenever his gaze fell to his lady wife, which was rather more often than usual, Lifa thought. It was well-known that the King had great regard for the Queen, though there was more than just good regard in those looks. Lifa knew that the King had never been one for overt affection save on rare occasions – she had seen him touching the Queen’s arm when she returned from battle, and sometimes at feasts as though they were sharing some private memory – but she could almost call his looks fond.

“Hm,” her mother said quietly, but then they had to bow their heads and curtsy as the King and Queen passed, and remained that way until bid to rise.

She thought that perhaps the announcement would be made then, before the feast was declared open, but the Queen spoke the proper words and servants began filtering about with goblets and food, and Lifa was drawn into a conversation with some other young nobles she had known when she was attending lessons in the palace, and it was not until the night had gone on for more than a few hours before the King called for their attention.

“As this feast is to honor the spring and its renewal of life, we feel it is a particularly appropriate time to make an announcement to you all,” he said. Lifa saw how his fingers curled around the Queen’s hand. “Let it be known that Queen Sif is with child—“ he paused, waiting for the sudden wave of murmuring to die down, eyes glittering under the gold horns of his helm “—and will be delivered by Yule.”

Applause broke out among the guests, loud enough to fill the huge hall. Even her mother, usually so calm in the face of royal proclamations, was smiling and applauding with the rest, though Lifa did hear her mutter that it was about time.

“Well,” Lady Sigrun said when the noise had died down and they had joined the line of others waiting to offer their congratulations, “The next several months shall be interesting, no?”

“Do you think the Queen will stop going out to the colony moons?” Lifa said, tilting her head. The Queen was smiling, clasping the hand of another lady of the court. The gems in the eyes of her crown’s dragon sparkled, as green as the cloth that draped the King’s shoulders, and Lifa wondered at the brilliance of her smile. “We have had all the reports of unrest—“

“Of course she will, child,” her mother whispered. “She is pregnant, she must be careful lest she lose the prince or princess within her—ah, here we are. Congratulations, my Queen, and my best wishes to you, my King. May I present my daughter, Lifa?”

“My lady,” Lifa said, curtsying.

“I have noticed you,” the Queen said when Lifa rose at her bidding, after Lady Sigrun had moved on. “You have just returned to court after some time at home, yes? You were with one of the lesson groups near the training sands, not long before I was crowned. Do you not remember, husband?”

“I confess I was more often in the library.”

“ _I_ remember.” The Queen smiled. “You are welcome here at court, Lady Lifa.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Lifa could not hide her smile as she curtsied again. “Congratulations, I hope all goes well for you and the child.”

“Considering I have suddenly acquired a very vigilant guard,” and here the Queen shot a look at the King out of the corner of her eye, “I doubt that any harm will come to either of us. But your well-wishes are appreciated, and should you need anything, please feel free to approach me about it.”

Lifa babbled another thanks and was led away by her mother, a broad grin on her face. She had permission to talk to the Queen herself!

“That went very well,” her mother said. “Good job, Lifa. I am proud.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Lifa took a goblet of wine off a passing tray and took a sip of it. She didn’t usually drink wine around her mother – it had a tendency to make her mouthy, and Lady Sigrun did not tolerate foolishness – but she was feeling in high spirits.

Later on after they had finally eaten and the group of well-wishers had dissipated somewhat, her mother turned to Lifa and asked, “What did the Queen say to you? I could not hear.”

“She said I was welcome at court,” Lifa replied (after finishing her mouthful of food and dabbing at her lips, of course). “And that I should come to her with anything I need.”

“Truly?” Her mother sat back, a smile on her face and a familiar, calculating look in her eye. “My dear daughter, you are going to rise quickly, if you have the blessing of the Queen herself.”

“I am certain I will, Mother.” But Lifa was not thinking of her social ladder, of the world that her mother desired for her and that Lifa knew she would one day inhabit. She was thinking of the Queen, and all that she would soon learn. Her mind was on a future that was suddenly changed and new, and she had never felt happier.


End file.
